London Fog
by i'mnotcrazy82
Summary: House and Cuddy take a little trip to London. Is romance in the air, or will this be their last chance at love. Huddy. Rated T...for now...
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N -**_

_**Okay, my alcoholic elvish muse is at it again...another traveling Huddy fic. As the title suggests, we're going for a little international fare. I picked London because I've actually been there, though it's been a few years. **_

_**I'm gonna try something a little different this time. I'm actually going to attempt to branch out, and include more of the Ducklings (new new team), and I think it's going to be much longer than my fics have been lately. **_

_**This is set up, AU after Wilson. Cuddy and Lucas have went their separate ways (mostly, because Huddy gives me enough angst to worry about). **_

_**Anyway, enjoy! **_

**_*************__  
London Fog  
*************_ **

_**Well, I'll wrap myself in the cities I travel  
I'll wrap myself in dreams  
I'll wrap myself in solitude  
but I wish I could wrap myself  
In thee. **_

**~ In Thee, Blue Oyster Cult **

**~ Chapter One ~ **

**Prep For Takeoff**

* * *

**(_Monday Afternoon)_**

**Lisa Cuddy sat behind her desk, sighing. The memo had been sent, now it was just the waiting for him to burst into her office. **

**He never failed to disappoint. **

"**You're making me do what?" Greg House's voice rose with anger, his blue eyes blazing. A sneer had formed on his lips, and he glared at her. **

"**I'm," she emphasized, "not making you do anything. The Board wants you to go to a WHO conference on Swine Flu. Since your specialty is in infectious disease, I agree with them." She calmly informed, her own blue-gray eyes flickering with barely concealed amusement. Only Greg House would be annoyed and irritated about doing a part of his job. **

"**Well, tell the Board, I'm not going." He pouted, glaring at her. He folded his arms across his chest, and he gave her a look that clearly said, "make me." **

"**Fine," she said, calmly. She idly picked up a file, and she flipped through it, waiting. **

**He turned to leave, then paused. "Fine?" His upper lip curled into a puzzled sneer. "It's never just fine." He narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you have up your sleeve?" **

"**Nothing." She kept her voice mild and bored. She pretended to find the file interesting. She wasn't sure if her nonchalance was working, but she was hoping it was. **

"**No, no, no," he mused, tapping his cane, clearly annoyed, but interested. "You're supposed to throw a fit. Yell at me. Call my bluff." **

**She sighed, resting an elbow on the desk, cupping her chin in her palm. "Oh, sorry. Guess I forgot." Her lips twitched, fighting her smirk. It wasn't everyday she got the chance to force his hand. Normally, against all better judgment, he was right. "Or," she paused, getting his full attention, "I know that if you don't go, the Board will suspend you indefinitely." She pulled a piece of paper from the file. "It's part of your conditions for coming back." She gave him a thoughtful look, "You have to prove that you're an asset to the hospital." **

**He was fuming. "I have to do what?" His eyes grew wide, ad he limped over to her to snatch the paper from her. "This is bullshit," he snarled, letting her know his opinion on the matter. **

"**It's a part of your job now," she shuffled some papers on her desk uncomfortably, trying not to cringe. **

"**The next thing you'll be making me do is kiss their asses," he grumbled. **

"**Keep it up, and I will," she threatened back. "Not that it wouldn't hurt your cause," she scoffed. "You have been declared," she cleared her throat, "'difficult to work with.'" **

"**I'll be more than happy to kiss your ass, but you better be naked and bent over that desk," he leered, then he looked down at the paper in his hand, and he sighed. "So, where the hell am I going." **

"**London," she informed him. "And before you get ay ideas," she added quickly, "you have been assigned a babysitter." **

"**And just who in the hell volunteered for that? The Marquis de Sade?" He gave her a feral smile, thinking of all the ways he could torment the poor sap. **

**She drew in a deep breath, steeling herself for the worst. "No one," she declared clearly, enunciating every word, "volunteered." She gave him a hard look. "I was told to go with you. With a short leash." **

**At those words, a slow, sly smile crept across his rugged features. "Cool." He turned, leaving her to wonder what he was planning, and he limped away, plotting against her. **

* * *

**A short time later, he limped into the conference room adjacent to his office. All his current combination of fellows were there. Chase was sitting sullenly apart from the group, running his hands through his shaggy hair. He'd finally stopped wearing his wedding ring, House noted. Foreman was reading a Forbes magazine, cleverly ignoring Thirteen, who was sitting next to Taub, who was looking thoughtfully at the screen of her open cell phone. **

"**Sharing your homemade porn?" he leered as he entered the room. "You need to share with the rest of the class. I'm a very lenient teacher." He waggled his eyebrows at her, then shot a glance at Foreman. "But only if your ex-boy toy's not involved," he added, and, out of the corner of his eyes, he watched Foreman roll his eyes, and he flipped the page of his magazine aggressively. **

"**Not porn," Thirteen's lips twisted up in a Cheshire grin. "At least, not yet. My new girlfriend," she informed him, closing her cell phone with an audible **_click_**, was a former patient of Taub's. **

"**I'm sensing a threesome in the works." House returned her grin with a leer. "Or, a two and a half some." **

**Taub rolled his eyes. "Do we have a case?" he asked in attempt to change the subject. **

**House shook his head. "No case." He jerked his chin towards the door. "Taub, Thirteen, go do Clinic hours. Don't try to round up a case. I need to have a male bonding moment with the senior fellows." He grinned. "We gotta rock it old school." **

**As the two newer fellows left, Foreman and Chase exchanged a look. "What's up?" Chase folded his arms across his chest. "Is this just a ploy to waste our time, and yours?" **

**House smirked. "Nope." **

**Foreman frowned. "Then can we leave?" **

"**Nope." He propped his feet up on the glass table, and he pulled a fat black marker out of his breast pocket of his blazer. "I'm going away on a little trip, and I gotta leave someone in charge, so Cuddy can blame them for all the screw ups while I'm not around." He carefully watched their reactions. **

**Foreman's frown deepened, and he reached for the marker. House jerked it out of reach, then tossed it to Chase. "Chase," he barked, "You're finally ready. Don't screw it up. And, please god, don't kill anyone else!" He nodded to the marker. "Take good care of it." **

**Chase smirked smugly, but Foreman was visibly upset. "You're leaving him in charge? He killed a patient!" **

"**And you tried to help him cover it up!" House shot back. He gave Foreman a sharp look. "Have you done better lately? The last time you were in charge, one member defected, and you fired the other." He stood up. "You've fumbled the ball every time you've been put in the game. Time to put in the back up." He nodded at Chase. "I just hope your more like Aaron Rodgers, and less like Curtis Painter." He gave Foreman another hard look. **

**Chase nodded, tucking the marker in the back pocket of his jeans. "When will you be back." **

**House tilted his head to one side, and he placed his hand over his heart. "I'm hurt! You're not going to ask me where I'm going?" **

**Chase shrugged. "Either Cuddy's making you go somewhere, or you'll be hiding in an Atlantic City hotel room with a dozen hookers and a case of liquor." **

**House gave him a dry look. "Don't crash the Ferrari," he warned him. "And I'm still driving until Friday, so don't get too full of yourself." He nodded towards the door. "Now get the hell out." **

**Chase smirked at his boss, then left, slipping his hands in his pockets, whistling as he left the room. **

**Foreman wasn't as flippant. He rounded on House, glaring at him. "What the hell was that all about?" **

**House gave him a pointed look. "You honestly wonder why I won't let you be in charge?" His lip curled into a smirk. "You've blown it every time." **

**Foreman rolled his eyes. "No, I get that. Why did I have to be here to be humiliated like that?" **

**House smirk grew wider. "Seriously?" **

**Foreman clenched his teeth. "You're an ass," he finally said, and he turned to leave." **

"**Better lose that attitude before Chase takes over," he called after him. "He doesn't have my forgiving ways," he smirked. Foreman kept walking, leaving House alone with his thoughts.**


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N -**_

_**Here's the next chapter! I hope you like it!**_

_**Also, I don't own House, DS does (lucky bastard), but I thank him for sharing his toys :-)  
**_

**_~ Chapter Two ~_**

**_Packed and Ready to Go?_**

**(_Later that evening_)**

**Before House even entered their new loft, the smell of Asian cooking assaulted his senses. He had to admit, having a roommate again was really convenient. He'd been alone for so long, he had thought it was going to be hard to adjust,, but it had actually been Wilson that had the hardest time adjusting to the situation.**

**He sighed as he opened the door. He must be getting old.**

**He dumped his bag on the floor of their mostly empty living room. Wilson had been hounding him about furniture, but he had also disagreed with everything House had picked out, mostly because House had intentionally picked the ugliest furniture that he could find. He shrugged out of his heavy coat, happy that Wilson had the heat turned on. Winter's grip on Princeton hadn't eased up yet, and the short walk from his car to the front of the building had been bone-chillingly cold. "Honey, I'm home!" he called, limping in the kitchen.**

"**Hey, House," Wilson greeted him dully, spooning Asian-style noodles on a plate.**

**_Christ. It's orange chicken_, House thought, cringing. It was Wilson's break-up food. "So, the new E.R. Doc...?"**

"**Lasted just one date." He pulled a beer from the fridge, then moved to the living room, sitting on the ugly orange reclining sofa. He turned on the T.V., without another word.**

**House fixed himself a plate, then sat next to his friend, who was morosely channel surfing. "Me?" he asked, watching his friend repeatedly press the channel up button on the remote.**

**Wilson sighed, and he leaned back in the chair, crossing his legs at the ankles. "Apparently, she didn't understand how my best friend could be such an asshole." He picked at the chunks of chicken on his plate with his chopsticks. "Then she dumped me, after I defended you." He fell silent, waiting for House's excuses.**

**House smirked. "You're looking for love in all the wrong, blond faces, you know." He rolled his eyes, not indulging in Wilson's pity party.**

"**Of course it's never about you!" Wilson shook his head. "This isn't about you insulting her in the E.R. in front of half her nurses." He chuckled bitterly, sarcasm dripping from every word.**

"**First, I insulted her because she deserved it." He answered back. "Cameron may have been obnoxiously sincere, but she was at least intelligent enough to let me root through E.R. cases for my amusement. Kelly had to interfere, and she had to have an issue with me browsing through the new arrivals." He paused. "And she broke up with you for something insensitive I said?" He grinned. "Just imagine the fun I'm gonna have with her, now."**

**Wilson gave him a wide-eyed look, still fuming, but he let House's words sink in, then he sighed, sinking back in his seat. "She dumped _me_," he mumbled, his argument losing some of its bite.**

"**Maybe it was for the better," House mumbled, aloud. Wilson raised an eyebrow, giving him a puzzled look. House shoved a piece of chicken in his mouth. "She's been sleeping with the chief of radiology."**

**Wilson was stunned. "But, he's married."**

"**Never stopped you." House chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then he picked up the remote that Wilson had laid down, and he changed the channel.**

"**Hey!" Wilson looked up. "I was watching that!"**

"**You were watching that." He gave his friend a look. "Now I'm watching this." He turned back to the T.V., which was playing a reality show with lots of glamorous girls standing around a pool.**

**Wilson sighed. "You're an ass."**

**I just don't hear that enough," House muttered. "You know where my passport is?" he asked, suddenly changing the subject.**

"**I'm not your secretary. She quit, remember," Wilson retorted.**

"**Damn, I knew I should have hired Chase for that," he muttered. "Seriously, have you seen my passport. I'm gonna need it."**

"**Shoved in your History of Civil War Medicine book, I think." He frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. "Why?"**

"**Cuddy has me going to a Swine Flu conference in London." He kept his eyes on the T.V., trying to keep his face blank. "She's riding along. To keep me out of trouble," he allowed himself to smirk **

"**Bad idea," Wilson said quickly. "Not able to worm your way out of it?"**

**He shook his head. "Can't." In a high pitched voice, he unflatteringly mimicked Cuddy. "I have to prove that I'm an asset to the hospital to the Board."**

**Wilson snorted. "Like the Board's stopped you before."**

**House leaned back in the sofa, propping his feet up on the recliner. "Normally, they don't. Unfortunately, after my little excursion to the funny farm, I sorta have to toe the line. As much as possible, anyway."**

**Wilson groaned. "Which team members are you screwing with?" He closed his eyes, already having a good idea what the answer was.**

**House's face broke out into a grin. "Chase and Foreman. And I have five days to mindf*ck them until I leave."**

"**You do know that this will not end well, don't you?" Wilson asked, a pained expression on his face.**

"**You'll keep an eye on the children for me, right?" His grin grew wider.**

**Wilson sighed. "Yes. Which one did you leave in charge?"**

"**The prettiest one."**

**Wilson nodded. "Teaching Foreman a lesson?"**

"**I prefer to think of it as leadership training," he smirked.**

"**Well," Wilson paused, thoughtfully, "this will be interesting."**

"**That's the spirit!" **

**They sat back, and they watched T.V. It wasn't until much later that he realized that Wilson hadn't said anything about Cuddy. The man was up to something, he thought, right before he went to sleep.**

* * *

**(At the hospital)**

"**There is nothing that I can do." Cuddy looked right into Foreman's eyes. "It's his department."**

"**But, he picked Chase on a completely arbitrary basis!" Foreman was upset, but he knew that he was going to lose this argument.**

**That didn't stop him from trying, though.**

"**It's his department," she repeated sharply. "And was he wrong?"She saw the look on his face, and she felt a throbbing headache form behind her temples. Doctors could be arrogant babies, and they were always in need of being placated and reassured.**

"**Eric," she began, carefully, "He has every right to put Chase in charge."**

**He began to open his mouth to argue, but she held up a hand, and she held firm on her thoughts on the subject. "You're a great neurologist, but, you've failed as a Diagnostic Department Head, several times." She kept her voice calm, and her eyes locked on his. "There's nothing I can do."**

**He frowned, then got up and left, still fuming.**

**She pulled a bottle of Tylenol out of her drawer, and she dry swallowed two of the little tablets, wondering what mess her hospital was going to be in when she got back.**

**She packed up her briefcase, and she pulled on her coat. She was ready to go home to Rachel, and after the baby was in bed, she planned on getting caught up on her paperwork. She had a lot to get done before she left on Friday. **


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N- _**

**_Forgive me, I think my frustration at the lack of Huddy is finally getting to me..._**

**_Cuddy WILL get nicer, I think. She's just as frustrated as I am ;-)_**

**_As usual, DS owns House, but I thank him for letting me play with his toys! :-)  
_**

_**~ Chapter Three ~**_

_**Turbulence Ahead**_

**(_Thursday Afternoon_)**

**Cuddy had avoided him all week, and he had been noticeably quiet. Too quiet. She'd expected him to throw a fit, or at least make a scene or two, but instead he had laid low, even completing his Clinic hours without a word.**

**So she was pretty on edge for most of the week. And that nervous energy grew with each passing day without a scene.**

"**So, am I riding with you?" Or are you gonna ditch me."**

**Cuddy nearly jumped out of her skin as she entered her office. She clenched her teeth together tightly to keep from shrieking, and her fear was quickly replaced with irritation and anger. She marched over to the rugged, rangy doctor sitting in her chair across the polished surface of her desk from her. She held out her hand, palm up, and simply told him, "gimme."**

**House smirked. "Gimme? Are you implying that I have what you want?" He lifted an eyebrow at her, "I think you may want to close your blinds."**

"**Shut. Up. House," she hissed through her clenched teeth. "You're sitting in my locked office. I want the spare key you had Lucas make for you." At his shocked look, she smirked, "Dating your private dick gave me a wealth of information."**

**He sneered, then fished the key out of his pocket. "Just Lucas now, huh? Not snookums or honeybunch?"**

**She took the key out of his hand, trying to ignore the tingle of electricity that bolted through her as her cool fingers brushed against his warm palm. Then, she calmly picked up the phone on her desk, dialing a number. "Karl, in maintenance," she asked, tersely.**

**He smirked, and he leaned back in her chair, folding his arms behind his head. He enjoyed seeing her angry and flustered.**

"**Karl. Lisa Cuddy. How soon can you change the lock on my office door?" She paused, listening to her maintenance supervisor rattle off his response. "Yes. I understand." Her blue-gray flickered to the smug son of a bitch sitting in her chair. "I'm just concerned that someone may have unauthorized access to my office. She glared at House, as if saying **_**like you**_**. She paused again, listening to what ever Karl had to say, then, she smiled. It was a slow, threatening, feral smile. House was pretty sure that wolverines had that kind of smile. "Thank you," she said, then she hung up the phone.**

**He decided to push his luck. "So, when are we leaving. I mean, if you're my babysitter, then..."**

**She slammed her palm down on her desk, feeling the shock of the impact travel up her arm. "I am _not_ enjoying this." She drew a deep breath, closing her eyes to his startled expression. "Nor am I your secretary. You need to make your own plans. Not have me, or Wilson, or one of the team do it for you." Anger and irritation blazed from her eyes, making him cringe. "Speaking of your team. If you want to blow up your department, fine. But do not use my hospital as a fall out shelter." She took a moment to calm down, counting to twenty in her mind, trying to get her breathing under control. Finally, she spoke again, firmly, but calmly. "Just be in London by 8 am, Monday morning, London time."**

**The corners of his mouth tugged up in a sinister grin. "Yes, mistress." He stood up, grabbing his cane, and he walked out of her office, leaving her to fume behind him.**

**** ** ****

"**You're going to die, you know that, right?"**

**House glanced up from his computer. "She's supposed to be babysitting me, right?" He clicked on the "Okay" button that had popped up. "So, part of that job is making sure that I'm on the plane, right?" He leaned back in his chair, giving Wilson a satisfied smirk. "I'm just making her do her job."**

"**Oh yes," Wilson responded, dryly. "Your motives are completely altruistic." He rolled his eyes. "This has nothing to do with your feelings for her."**

"**What I'm doing now has **_**nothing**_** to do with any feelings I might have had for her." He said it quickly, annoyed and angry. "My motives are pure."**

"**Your motives are **_**pure**_**? Your motives are never pure." Wilson narrowed his eyes. "You're doing this for revenge!" He wagged a finger at House, whose emotions had become unreadable.**

"**Words can hurt, you know," House muttered. Was he doing this because she rejected him, or was he simply doing it to punish her for all those years of forced Clinic duty. "Why do you suddenly care about my motives? It's not like you're involved in any of this."**

"**I'm not involved?" Wilson scoffed. "I may not be now, but I will be."**

"**Only because you'll position yourself directly in the line of fire," House shot back. He sighed, slumping back in his chair. "This is not something you should worry about."**

"**Oh, I shouldn't worry about you getting hurt?" Wilson's voice had risen in anger, but House picked up on his overwhelming concern. It was what he'd felt seeing his best friend on the operating table in the O.R., when his friend had demanded a portion of his liver.**

"**I'm not going to get hurt," he admitted reluctantly. "I can't hurt more than I already do."**

**Wilson was taken aback by that admission. He knew that it had taken a lot for House to admit that. "Okay."**

"**Okay?" House repeated, amused. "**_**Okay**_**?" He stood up from the desk, and he walked around it. "That's it, no, '_House, this is insane_,' or '_House, shouldn't you rethink this_'?"**

**Wilson shrugged. "You never listen to me, anyway." He reached into his pants' pocket, and he pulled a piece of paper out of it. Wordlessly, but with a telling smirk, he handed it to House.**

**House raised an eyebrow, but he took the piece of paper. "Cuddy's flight plans?" His craggy face split into a grin. "Thanks, but, why?"**

**Wilson sighed. "She hurt my best friend," he said simply. "It's only right that I make sure he's the biggest, nastiest thorn in her side for this entire trip." He shrugged, smirking slightly. "She must be punished."**

**House smiled, but before he could respond, he heard someone with an Australian accent dryly commenting from behind him, "So, can I join the No Girls Allowed Club, too?" **

**He turned, and he saw Chase leaning against the door frame of the office, smirking slightly. He turned to Wilson. "This is why I don't like Canadians. They're sneaky bastards."**

**Chase rolled his eyes. "I'm not Canadian; I'm Australian."**

"**So. What are you still doing here?" It was after six, and they didn't have a case. The other fellows had already left for the day. "Avoiding home? I suppose your condo is a lonely place, without your blonder half?"**

**Wilson inhaled sharply. "Do you have to do that?"**

"**Do what?" House asked him innocently.**

"**Be an ass," Chase answered for him. Then he walked over to House, holding out a file. "Cuddy asked me to give this to you."**

**House frowned, then he flipped open the blue folder. He blinked. "A case?" He looked up at Wilson and Chase. "She's giving me a case, even though I'm supposed to leave tomorrow?" He then smirked, ad he handed the Aussie the file. "Round up the troops, boss. This one's yours."**

**Chase blinked as the blue folder was thrust in his hands. He looked up in disbelief as both doctors left him in the office, alone. Sighing, he reached for his cell phone, hoping the rest of the team would take him seriously and come in.**


	4. Chapter 4

**~ Chapter Four ~**

**Checked Baggage**

* * *

**Chase sat in House's lounge chair, exhausted.**

**The differential and diagnosis had went by quickly, and the treatment was taking.**

**But, he was physically and psychologically spent.**

**He leaned his head back, and he put his feet up on the ottoman. It was odd, to lead the differentials, and ow he had an innate understanding on why House hated dealing with patients.**

"**Everybody lies," he muttered, letting his eyes flutter closed. He could feel the nervous tension pulsating through his tight muscles. He thought about going back to his condo, but the idea sickened him. There were too many memories, both good and bad, held within those walls.**

**They hadn't even lasted a year, even after knowing each other for nearly six years. He wasn't deluding himself; he knew they had only a fifty/fifty chance of actually making it, but he had hoped they would have lasted longer than a year in holy matrimony.**

**The patient had had honey blond hair, Cameron's natural color, and she had even shared her eye color. His guts twinged at the thought. It would take a long time for him to get over her.**

**She had blamed House for their break-up; he had blamed himself.**

**Before he could go further in his pity party, a soft tap on the glass door of the office had knocked him out of his thoughts. He sat up quickly, and Wilson popped his head in the door. "You doing okay?" Chase could almost smile. It was the first time since she left that that question hadn't referred to their separation and divorce.**

**He nodded, "Yeah." He ran a hand through his short hair. "How the hell does he do it?"**

**Wilson's thoughtful face split into a grin. "You've worked for him the longest. You should know the answer to that."**

**Chase shook his head. "I've always been on the other side, tossing out ideas, sometimes randomly." He paused. "Sometimes, I just told him what he wanted to hear."**

"**Well," Wilson spoke slowly, thoughtfully, "House hates random, so you must be one hell of an ss kisser." When Chase failed to smile at his weak attempt at a joke, Wilson added, earnestly, "you're doing fine, and the treatment worked. Results are what matter, and your patient will probably be walking out of the hospital." Wilson shrugged. "That's what House will care about, anyway."**

"**The ends justify the means?" Chase muttered out loud, more to himself than to Wilson.**

**Wilson frowned. Something was bothering the young man, and it was more than just being handed the reins to the Diagnostics Department. "Wanna go grab a beer?" He shrugged at Chase's bewildered expression. "I could use one," he admitted.**

**Chase frowned. "You're not going to give me advice on moving on, are you?"**

"**God no!" Wilson answered quickly, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I'm the last one you want to hear advice from about that. I'm still on good terms with all my ex-wives."**

**Chase pondered his words, then stood up. "Let me get my coat." **

**Wilson thrust his hands in his pockets, and he waited for Chase. Then, a slow smile spread across his boyish features. At least he'd have a drinking buddy for the next week, and that buddy's name wouldn't be House.**

**It would be nice to have an adult conversation for a change.**

**** ** ****

**House limped, without a cane, through the terminal.**

**He felt like hell.**

**Normally, being punctual was not on his list of things to do, but with the increased airport security, Wilson convinced him that he needed to get to Newark early.**

**Boy, and he was happy for that, though he'd never admit it out loud.**

**Apparently, he'd made it on some form of government watch list, or, at least a Greg House did. Or it was his unlucky day. What ever the reason, he'd been singled out, and after two hours of convincing various officials that no, he didn't plan on blowing up a plane. At least, he hadn't planned on it until he'd arrived at the airport and started to go through security.**

**Now his head was throbbing, and his thigh was aching. They'd taken away his cane, and they'd offered him a wheelchair which he had just abandoned, preferring to limp his way through the terminal than listening to the squeaky wheel that had added to his already pulsating headache.**

**She better be on the damn flight.**

**He'd spent a good chunk of change to change his flight at the last minute, and he'd just braved the mouth of hell, also known as the bureaucratic nightmare known as airport security (that was an oxymoron if he'd ever heard one). It couldn't be for nothing.**

**He found an empty chair with a great view of who was coming and going in the terminal, and he sat heavily in it.**

**And he waited.**

**He watched as people bustled around, sitting down, waiting for their flights.**

**None of them were Cuddy.**

**The flight was called, ad he let everyone file in ahead of him. He hung back, scanning the crowd, but he never saw her. Finally, when everyone else had filed into the plane, he followed them in. He took his seat, and he leaned his head back, not listening to the perky blond attendant going how to fasten a safety belt for the morons on the plane.**

**He'd been played, and that had hurt.**

**** ** ****

**Cuddy rushed to the airport as fast as traffic would allow.**

**She was late. She was never late, but today, she was late.**

**She'd overslept, then Rachel had been fussy, and that had slowed things considerably. Then there was the the accident that had snarled things on the freeway. Thank god she had everything packed and ready to go.**

**But that hadn't helped a whole lot.**

**She rushed up to the counter, and the sympathetic clerk gave her a sad smile. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but your flight has finished boarding. You'll have to take another flight."**

**She sighed, then started to reach for her purse to dig out her tickets so she could change her flight. The week was not starting off the way it should be.**

**Then she realized her purse was still in the locked car, with her cell phone and the keys.**


	5. Chapter 5

_**~ Chapter Five ~**_

_**Rough Landing**_

_

* * *

_

**Cuddy arrived at Heathrow airport twenty-four hours later than she had originally planned. She was exhausted, disheveled, and a little cranky. She didn't sleep well on flights, anyway.**

**Not that she could sleep traveling alone with Rachel..**

**And now, she was facing the Customs agent from hell.**

"**Passport please," the severe looking woman's harsh, clipped tone rang in her ears.**

**Cuddy dug through her bag, shifting Rachel on her hip. Her passport had fallen to the bottom, and it had become wrinkled under the pressure of the contents of the bag. Cringing inwardly, she handed the hawkish looking woman all of the appropriate documents. "Here you go," she said, wearily.**

"**Madam, you do realize that your passport is your only document of value and identification in this country," the woman informed her, wrinkling her nose disdainfully at the condition of the document. "You would do well to take better care of it," she lectured.**

**Cuddy bit back a biting response, glad House wasn't around to make her feel worse about the situation, or to step in, and make the situation worse.**

"**What is your purpose here?" the woman continued, peering more critically over her dark rimmed glasses, her gaze piercing Cuddy.**

"**Medical Conference. I'm a Dean of Med..."**

"**Yes. Nice. Very well." The woman briskly stamped her passport after peering at the printed e-mails that verified Cuddy's reasons. "How long will you be here?"**

"**'Til next Saturday."**

"**Very good."**

**Cuddy zoned out through the rest of the spiel, feeling a little bad for it, but she was tired and hungry. Feeling stiff and weary, she picked up her bag from luggage claim, and she made her way through the busy terminal.**

**Managing a child and her luggage through the airport by herself wasn't an easy feat, but she managed. She had planned traveling with her nanny, but, due to a family emergency, that hadn't gone to plan, and the nanny would be arriving Monday afternoon.**

**Cuddy hoped she had better luck than herself. So far, this really had been the trip from hell.**

**She muscled through the airport, and she finally was able to get to the exit, where the Black Cabs were lined up. She hailed one, and the driver, a gentleman in his early fifties, got out and began to load her luggage.**

**She settle into the back of the cab. "Where to, miss," he asked, getting in the driver's seat.**

**She gave him directions to the hotel, and she settled back in the seat. Rachel cooed next to her, her wide brown eyes taking in everything. As they drove through London, Cuddy pointed out the landmarks: Tower Bridge, The Tower of London, Big Ben and the House's of Parliament. She realized that Rachel was far too young to remember anything from this trip, and she made a mental note to buy a disposable camera or two to document their week there.**

**She also startled herself by planning on spending time with Rachel and taking the time to take in the sights with her. A year ago, she would have never taken the time to enjoy a city on a trip like this. She would have been so focused on her job she wouldn't have enjoyed herself.**

**Her priorities had changed so much in such a short span of time.**

**Her smile faltered a bit as her thoughts were invaded by an image of a tall, rugged man with a cane and a bitterly wicked sense of humor.**

**And a thick sensation of guilt filled her stomach.**

**If she hadn't been so preoccupied with her new life and child, maybe she would have seen his breakdown coming.**

**She shook her head. No, she wouldn't go there. It wasn't fair to neither her nor Rachel.**

**She wasn't his personal babysitter. She couldn't always save him.**

**They pulled in front of her hotel, and the cab driver pulled her bags from the cab. She paid him, and she gave him a tip for all his help. "Thank-you, miss." He tipped his hat, and he drove off.**

**She walked up to the check-in desk, and she pulled the printout her reservations from her bag. She paid for the room, and the clerk signaled a bell hop to take her luggage up to her room. "Fourth floor, madam. Room 402.**

**Cuddy thanked the clerk, and then she followed the bell hop to the elevator. Rachel became fussy, after being relatively calm for most of the trip. She tried to sooth the little girl while apologizing to the bell hop, who endured it with stoic professionalism.**

**When the elevator doors opened, she looked up, and she was faced with the moment she had been dreading.**

**Greg House was standing right in front of her.**

**And he didn't look happy to see her.**

**** ** ****

**At the sound of his alarm, Chase cracked open an eye, only to find a pair of rich, gold eyes staring at him. He groaned, and he was tempted to push the huge, orange cat off the bed, but then, he realized that the damn cat was a part of his life, whether he had wanted it or not.**

**He sat up, ad with one hand, he turned off the alarm. He scratched Cheddar behind the ears with the other one, eliciting a low purr from the giant cat's throat.**

**He hadn't wanted a cat, but he'd given into Cameron's demands for one, but he had refused to pay for an expensive, over-bred pampered feline. So they'd rescued Cheddar from an animal shelter. And, like Chase, when Cheddar was content and happy and he had been saved, Cameron had abandoned them.**

**He came to the conclusion that he had spent way too much time dwelling on the misfortunes of his recent past, but everywhere he looked, he had been reminded of it.**

**At least work had been going well. His first case as boss seemed like it was going to be a success.**

**It was a much needed ego boost.**

**As he was driving to work, his thoughts were brought back to the ease of his first case, and a sickening thought occurred to him.**

**The case had been easy. Too easy. And the other fellows had been eager to work for him. Including Taub and Foreman. They'd barely fought with him at all.**

**Something was up, and he had the sickening feeling that he was being played. By his co-workers.**

**He sighed, and he gripped the steering wheel tightly. It was only going to get worse from there.**

**He couldn't wait for House to get back.**


	6. Chapter 6

_**~ Chapter Six ~**_

_**Arrival**_

**The other fellows were already sitting around the conference room table, waiting for him to show up. He was two hours late, but that didn't bother him. In fact, he was late for a reason. He walked in, and he tossed a file at each of them. "We have a case."**

**Thirteen raised a finely arched eyebrow. "Doing your best imitation of House?" She looked him up and down, smirking wryly. "You need to stop ironing your shirts.**

"**And buy a cane," Taub pointed out, smirking.**

**Foreman gave a slight scoff. "And change your accent." He toyed with the folder, "which you can't do." He looked Chase right in the eyes. "Face it; you're not House."**

**Chase shrugged. "Nope," he admitted blandly. He sat down, putting his feet up on the table. "We have a case," he repeated, nonchalantly.**

**Foreman opened the file. "Twenty-eight year old female, complaining of severe head pain and visual and auditory sensitivity, nausea, and fatigue." He frowned, then shrugged. "It's a migraine. Give her a pain reliever and send her home."**

**Thirteen shook her head. "You're a neurologist," she gave him a cold look. "We should look at it like a symptom, not a diagnosis. Besides, the history says that even the extra strength pain relievers made for migraines weren't working.." She looked at the file again. "It could be a brain tumor." She looked up at Chase. Has she had a CT scan?"**

**Foreman looked at the file. "Inconclusive. It means nothing."**

**Taub frowned. "It could be vasculitis. Abnormal swelling of the blood vessels could be causing her migraines." He looked up Forman." All the tests were ran by an HMO lab, and they all came back inconclusive. I agree with Thirteen. The migraines may be a symptom, not the diagnosis. It's a legitimate case."**

**Foreman grunted, exasperated. "It could be nothing. All the tests were..."**

"**Inconclusive," Thirteen answered.**

"**Could also be an aneurysm," Chase put in. He mulled over it for a moment, then he pointed at Taub and Thirteen. "You two, redo the CT and get an MRI. It might catch something that the CT missed." He pointed at Foreman. "Get a history and start her on steroids."**

"**And what are you going to do?" Thirteen asked with a smirk.**

**Chase shrugged, pulling a yo-yo from his pocket. "I'm going to go be House and bother Wilson." He got up, and he left the room whistling. The other fellows looked blankly at each other, then got up to do their respective jobs.**

**** ** ****

"**You look like hell." House felt the need to inform Cuddy, after the shock of seeing her step off the elevator wore off.**

**He was still a little hurt by her not being on the flight, even though she didn't know he was on the flight.**

**Hell, he wasn't supposed to be on the flight, either, but she didn't need to know that.**

**She inhaled sharply. "House," she began, shifting a fussy Rachel to her other hip. "It's been a long forty-eight hours. Rachel's fussy and needs to be changed and have a nap. I need a shower and a nap. We will continue this discussion later." Her administrator voice brokered no argument, and she moved past him with a confidence that she didn't really feel.**

**She unlocked the door to her room, ad she directed the bell hop to leave her suitcase near the door. Once he had left, she took a moment to take in where she'd be staying for a week. The sitting room that she was standing in was small, but it had nice furnishings, including a desk and a couple of chairs. There was also a small counter in the corner with a tiny microwave and tea maker, as well as a mini fridge. In the bedroom, which was slightly larger than the sitting room, there was a large bed, and a small crib for Rachel. A small bathroom jutted off from the bedroom.**

**She needed to get a converter for her laptop, and she was planning on going out and just buying a cheap hair dryer and other inexpensive appliances, but that would have to wait. Right now, both she and Rachel needed a nap, so she put Rachel in her crib, and she waited as the little girl fought sleep, until she finally gave in.**

**She herself dozed off in one of the large, plush chairs in the room, her eyes growing heavy from the ordeals she had been through. A loud knock on the door woke her with a start, and she was disoriented for a moment. Finally shaking the cobwebs from her mind, she got up, and she answered the door.**

**** ** ****

**She'd just left him standing in the hallway.**

**He should have been pissed by her brush off, but he'd saw how drained she was. So he went back to his room to plot his revenge.**

**He was lying in his bed, a self satisfied smirk on his face, but something was gnawing at him. Something wasn't right. Then, he realized what it was.**

**She'd missed her flight. She was supposed to be on that flight, but she'd missed it.**

**He felt a lead weight form in the pit of his stomach.**

**He suddenly regretted his little prank.**

"**I didn't order room service. Especially this much room service," she explained to the hotel employee. She glanced at the fully loaded cart, then a light bulb went off. "I think you have the wrong room."**

"**Oh no, miss," the employee explained. "The order was for 402."**

**It took every but of her haggling and debate skills, and several minutes, but she finally managed to convince the employee to send the cart to House's room, as well as to charge it to his room.**

**She knew it would only be the beginning of their war, but she was happy with how she handled it.**

**Later that night, after she had ordered room service for herself, a note was slipped under her door. The scrawl scribbled on it simply read "touche."**


	7. Chapter 7

_**~ Chapter Seven ~**_

**(Sunday Morning)**

**Cuddy awoke the next morning at dawn feeling refreshed, which was surprising. After the nightmare past forty-eight hours, she didn't expect to sleep well, but she did, despite Rachel's best efforts to prevent that from happening. Rachel had been awake at odd hours, her little body unaware that she was in a different time zone, and she was cranky at her upset in routine. She was fussy, and about one a.m., she had a total meltdown, cryig inconsolably for about an hour and a half.**

**Cuddy supposed that she should be just as cranky about her routine, being a creature of habit, though she'd never admit that to herself. She couldn't blame the little girl for being upset, and she hoped the week would get better. For the both of them.**

**She was planning on going out for breakfast, the she would deal with House, once she was fed and happy.**

**She dressed Rachel, then they went to a small cafe near the hotel. Fortified with food, and refreshed, she was ready to work.**

**For the next few hours, she went over the itinerary of the conference. Neither of them were scheduled to speak, even though House had bee invited to. The man was almost a recluse when ti came to speaking engagements, though it would be a boost to the hospital and his career. As ambitious as he was, he'd found a comfortable spot at PPTH, and he didn't do much more than he absolutely had to to maintain that spot.**

**There was no way that he was going to go to all the talks. She accepted that fact from the start, but if she could get him to go to one or two a day, she would consider that a small victory.**

**Besides, she'd probably be going to most of the talks, so no information would be lost. All she had to was get him to show up to the few talks a day she wanted him to go to.**

**After a few hours of perusing various lectures, she picked out several of the more interesting sounding ones. Or, what she thought was interesting. She'd let him decide on the handful he was to go to. So she picked up Rachel, grabbed her diaper bag, and she head to his room.**

**She knocked on his door, and she waited for him to open it. He did, and he blinked at her, then he slammed it back in her face.**

**Her jaw dropped, and it took a few seconds to recover from her shock. She clenched her teeth to keep a curse from flying out, and she lifted her hand to knock again.**

**But the door opened. "Why the hell are you standing out there? he asked with a smirk. He stepped back to allow her to enter.**

**She stepped into a room that was a twin to her own. "I have an idea on which lectures you should attend," she told him briskly as she put Rachel on the floor. She straightened, and she tried to hand him the sheet of paper. She paused as she saw his eyes weren't focused on her, but on Rachel, who immediately stood up and began tottering around the room. "House?" Cuddy asked softly, not wanting to ruin the moment.**

"**Huh," he asked, not hearing her. The he realized that Cuddy had been watching him. "Just remember, my room is not a daycare." He snatched the paper from her.**

"**Unfortunately, until my nanny gets here tomorrow, she comes everywhere with me," she responded dryly. She didn't miss the warm look he'd given the child, despite his harsh words. He wasn't as cranky as he let on.**

"**Pawning your brat off on a babysitter," he commented, unkindly.**

"**Only because they don't provide daycare," she shot back. "Are you okay with going to those lectures?" she asked, switching gears back to business.**

**He hadn't even looked at the sheet. "You're not making me go to everything?" He was genuinely surprised.**

"**I figured you would declare war on me if I tried," she rolled her eyes. "London was bombed enough during the blitz." She pulled some stuffed animals out of her bag. "So I thought I'd go through and highlight the ones that looked the most informative, but you have the final say."**

"**Damn right I have the final say," he muttered. He glanced down the list. "Nothing for tomorrow?"**

**She looked up from Rachel. "No babysitter," she answered, turning her attention back to her daughter.**

**He was a little miffed at her attention being taken by Rachel. He snorted contemptuously. "What are you gonna do if she fails to show up?"**

**She visibly shuddered at the thought. "I'll just have to take her with me then," she declared. Rachel looked up at him, and she grinned, showing off her new teeth. "It'll be great preparation for her career as a doctor," Cuddy gushed, drawing a glare from House.**

"**Oh shut up!" he snorted. "The kids smart, but she's gonna run like hell from the healthcare industry. He slowly lowered himself to the floor to get a better look at the toddler invading his space. "Too many bad memories off all those school plays that mommy had to miss because of work," he gave Cuddy a pointed look, then turned his attention back to Rachel. "Be a lawyer, kid," he told her. "Drive mommy ****nuts and start your own firm." He brightened as Cuddy glared at him. "Or better yet, be a politician, just be smart enough not to get caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Or public coffer," he added with a grin."**

**Rachel looked up at him with wide brown eyes, and she jabbered to him in response. Cuddy laughed, "you tell him, kiddo!" she gushed, causing him to roll his eyes. **

"**Let's get to work," he grumbled.**

**Several hours later, she blinked, her eyes dry. As usual, he'd fought her every step of the way, but they'd finally hashed out a compromise that they both could live with. She stood up from her chair and stretched.**

"**Leaving so soon," he asked, sarcastically.**

"**I figured three hours of work was enough torture for you today." She began to pack up Rachel's things. "I mean, that's two hours more of work than you're used to doing a day." She picked up a giggling Rachel.**

"**Oh, snap," he exclaimed, sneering at her. "Talkin' about me, right? You spend most of your day in your office drinking lattes and talking."**

"**I'm meeting with donars that do things like fund your department," she tossed her hair back, giving him a pointed look. **

**He opened the door for her and nodded. "Riiiight," he drew out. "How do I get a job like yours?"**

"**You couldn't fit into my skirts."**

"**But I'd look better in heels," he grinned. "Wait, I didn't mean that."**

"**That's a scary thought," she shuddered, grinning. "I'll see you later, House."**

**He watched as she walked down the hall, then he went back inside his room. Picking up one of Rachel's forgotten stuffed animals, he realized how lonely and empty his room was without them.**


	8. Chapter 8

**_A/N -_**

**_Sorry for the delay. I've had a pretty bad sinus infection (aka, head cold) and I could barely make it in to work, let alone, write. _**

**_Anyway, getting back on track, now, so here's the next chapter :-)  
_**

_**~ Chapter Eight ~**_

**Rachel was crawling around on the floor, chasing after her blocks, when a knock sounded at the door. Cuddy got up from the chair she was sitting in, and she hurried to the door to open it. Her face fell when she saw who was standing on the other side.**

"**Dammit, House," she groaned. "What are you doing here?"**

"**Jesus, Cuddy, you give me such warm welcomes. I'm starting to think you have a thing for me." He smirked, relishing her flustered reaction.**

"**Sorry," she said quickly, motioning him in, impatiently. "I thought you were someone else." She sat back in the chair "What are you doing her?"**

"**Wanna go to lunch?" he blurt out. At her stunned look, he grinned. "I miss Wilson," he pouted. "I need someone to buy me lunch." He gave her a defeated look. "Will you be Wilson for me today?"**

**She blinked, trying not to laugh. "You're inviting me to buy lunch for you?" She shook her head. "I'm waiting for a phone call."**

"**And you've never heard of a mobile phone?" He saw her bite her lip, and he knew he had her. He shot a look to Rachel, and he fought to keep his face expressionless. "You can even bring the leech."**

**She rolled her eyes. "Okay..." she drew out. "You carry the diaper bag." He groaned, but watched as she put Rachel's boots and winter coat on. She picked the little girl up, and she handed him the bag.**

**He reluctantly took the bag, and he shouldered it. As they were walking down the hall, he noticed something. "No stroller?"**

**She laughed. I'm not going to pack something like that when I'm here for a week. It's too large and clumsy," she explained, giving him a tired smile. "I was thinking about just buying a cheap one, but haven't decided yet."**

**He watched as she shifted Rachel's weight to her other hip. "So, you're just going to tote her around London?"**

"**Probably," she rolled her eyes. "It's not like we're going to do a lot of walking around in this weather, anyway." She frowned at the leaden skies as they walked out the door. She shivered at the brisk wind. "Besides, it's not like I'm used to carrying around the weight of your ego, so I've got lots of training." She gave him a little smirk.**

"**My ego!" he exclaimed, pretending to be shocked.**

"**Yes, your ego. It's too big for just one of us. It takes all three of us to carry it around." She shifted Rachel again while they walked. The little girl kept trying to twist around to watch House with great interest.**

"**Don'cha think the little one is too young for that kind of burden?" He made a face at her, causing the toddler to giggle.**

**Cuddy gave him a dry look. "I was talking about Wilson."**

**They entered the small cafe. They ordered their lunch. "You're still buying, right?" He looked at her hopefully.**

**She rolled her eyes, and she waved her hand. "Yeah, sure." She gave him a pointed look. "Are you missing Wilson that much? By making me buy your lunch for you? That's a little pathetic, you know."**

**He smirked across the table at her. "Speaking of relationships," he deftly deflected, causing her to lift a questioning eyebrow at him. She feared the worst, and he felt the tension increase substantially between them. He knew that she knew what he was going to ask, and he blundered on, anyway. "You never told me what happened between you and Lucas."**

**She bit her lip, and she felt her spine stiffen. She gave him a long look before answering. "I'm afraid that's none of your business," she informed him, abruptly standing up. "I'll be back," she told him, and before he could ask where she was going, she left him alone at the table with Rachel.**

**He tilted his head to one side. "Interesting," he mused. He noticed Rachel had twisted around in her high chair, her dark brown eyes were wide and full of worry. "Don't worry kid," he told her. "Mommy's just in the bathroom," he reassured her. "She won't let you be alone with me for too long. She'll be afraid that I'll convince you to join the dark side. Which, by the way, is the right side. Full of reason and logic."**

**Rachel looked up at him with wide, trusting brown eyes. He peered at her, wondering if he had ever been as innocent and trusting. Her lower lip began to quiver, and his eyes grew wide. "Oh, no kid!" He tried to stave off the inevitable. "Look, you're mommy's gonna be back soon, I know it." He glanced around the restaurant, making sure that they hadn't drawn anyone's attention yet. "Please, god, don't go nuclear. Not yet." He cringed, waiting for the worst to happen.**

"**Scared of a little baby?" a familiar teasing voice asked. Cuddy had come back, and he held back a sigh of relief. She picked up Rachel, and his relief turned to concern. "Sorry," she told him. "My nanny just called. She finally reached the hotel, and I need to meet her. Prepare for the week." She gave him an indecipherable look. "See you tomorrow, House."**

**He watched her leave, and he frowned.**

**It was another near miss, and there had been way too many of those over the years.**

**** ** ****

**(Back in Princeton, Monday Evening)**

**Wilson and Chase were walking out of the hospital, making their way to their cars. "So, he doesn't know," Wilson asked.**

**Chase shook his head. "No, not yet, and don't tell him."**

**Wilson made a gesture of surrender with his hands. "I've been around House enough to know when to keep my mouth shut." He paused for a second. "Do the other fellows know."**

**Chase nodded. "They're in on it. They had to be."**

"**Will it work?" Wilson was genuinely interested.**

**Chase grinned. "It has so far."**

**Wilson chuckled. "Wanna get a beer, so you can tell me the rest of your devious plan?"**

"**Only if you're buying."**

**Wilson rolled his eyes. "No. You may be House's replacement, but you're not him. I'm not funding any of your habits."**

**They laughed, then headed to their respective vehicles.**

*************

**(About the same time, but in London)**

**Cuddy sat at the desk in her room, video conferencing with her temporary replacement at the hospital. Dr. Warner was the head of cardiology, but he knew the hospital better than just about everyone else on the staff, except her. He'd make a great administrator some day, as long as it was another hospital.**

**She wasn't quite ready to relinquish the iron grip she had on PPTH.**

"**Hang on a moment, Don, the specs are in my bag," she apologized, embarrassed by her lack of organization.**

**The middle aged man laughed, a deep, rich thrum. "It's fine, Lisa. Traveling can disorientate the best of us, of which you are," he reassured. She blushed at his compliment. **

**She left her seat, and she dug the stack of papers out of her bag. She frowned, finding the pile thicker than she remembered. She flipped through them, and she realized that half of them were hand outs from the opening lectures at the conference she'd missed earlier in the day, thanks to not having a sitter. As she flipped through them, she noticed that all of them had written notes scrawled through them in a familiar script.**


End file.
